


Love The One You Hold

by Sometimesyoufly (faile02)



Category: Marvel, Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Las Vegas Wedding, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-24
Updated: 2013-09-24
Packaged: 2017-12-27 13:05:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/979260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faile02/pseuds/Sometimesyoufly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha doesn’t wear white. Not that any of them expect her to, and they’re in Vegas, for fuck’s sake. She could show up in a leather tutu and nobody would bat an eye, not the Elvis impersonators inside the casinos or the strippers handing out cards on the street corners. No, white is not the color for the Black Widow, no matter how funny Clint and James thinks it would be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love The One You Hold

**Author's Note:**

> [Shannon](http://geoffsramsey.tumblr.com/) prompted me: Bucky/Clint/Natasha getting married in Vegas
> 
> This is unbeta'd.

Natasha doesn’t wear white. Not that any of them expect her to, and they’re in Vegas, for fuck’s sake. She could show up in a leather tutu and nobody would bat an eye, not the Elvis impersonators inside the casinos or the strippers handing out cards on the street corners. No, white is not the color for the Black Widow, no matter how funny Clint and James thinks it would be.

She buys a dress with the money they make playing blackjack. It’s not as if Clint or James cheat, they’re just very good at patterns. Natasha’s game is Roulette, and if it makes her laugh when she wins, only her boys really understand the joke. 

The dress is long and green and has just enough applique to cover the naughty bits. Natasha knows it’s scandalous, considers buying a slip to match it, but she rather likes the way the dress falls open between her breasts, how the gems weigh the fabric down around her hips, with just enough of a slit for her long legs. There’s a hint of nipple peeking out from under the translucent gown, the kind of suggestion that James could never resist. 

Natasha smiles at her reflection in the mirror.

The boys are waiting outside, Clint in the same suit he wore for the mission, a knife tear along the side of the jacket. It makes Natasha smile, kiss his cheek fondly. Bucky’s wearing jeans, and when they get out to the street, he passes a man in a leopard coat, trades the guy a wad of cash and slips it on. Somehow, it suits him, and Tasha picks up a cowboy hat from a street vendor to complete it. Bucky knows he looks mostly ridiculous, but they’re laughing together and walking towards the chapel like it’s a mission.

It’s the most perfect moment Bucky thinks he’s ever had. 

They exchange rings under a neon sign advertising “Cupid’s Chapel,” but somehow they manage to keep a straight face, as a vaguely bored looking clerk barely bats an eye at the three of them taking turns kissing. 

Clint very much wants to get them home, sidetracks walking along the strip to find their hotel suite, bottles of champagne waiting for them, the room dim and bed turned down. He sweeps Natasha up into his arms, carries her to the bed while Bucky pours out glasses of sparkling wine. 

Natasha’s impatient, downs her glass quickly and settles herself against Clint, letting him tilt her head for a kiss. She can feel the heat radiating off Clint’s body, molds herself into the feeling, and let’s her fingers dance down Clint’s chest, slowly undoing the buttons of his shirt.

The mattress dips, and Bucky is there, licking a long line from the hollow of Natasha's throat, along her neck, up to her ear, catching the lobe between his teeth. She arches into his touch, feels Clint behind her, calloused hands skimming along the curve of her waist. 

There's the glint of light hitting stone, a diamond just large enough to catch the light shining on her finger. Her boys are wearing matching bands. 

Bucky has hands under Natasha's dress, pushing aside the thin fabric, taking care not to ruin anything. He knows how she gets about her clothing. There's a small zipper at her back, where the dress dips down. Carefully, Bucky undoes it, watching the slow reveal of skin. She's pale and smooth and he lowers his head down, kissing the small of her back. 

There's too much clothing between them, Natasha decides, shifting from her spot between them. It takes her a moment to allow Bucky to remove her dress, before she's facing Clint, straddling his lap, hands undoing the buttons on his shirt. Clint's barely paying attention, his hands roving along Natasha's body, touching any skin he can reach. He’s eager, like an excited puppy, and Bucky has to tap on Clint’s hands to remind him of his place. 

Clint sits back, stills almost instantly, waits against the headboard while Bucky’s lips trail over Natasha’s neck, her nimble fingers pushing aside the white of Clint’s dress shirt. “Don’t move,” Bucky says softly, his voice trailing over Tasha’s shoulder. Somewhere along the way Bucky’s lost his clothing, and Clint, taking care to follow orders, still manages to look Bucky up and down, eyes taking in the hard lines of muscle, the way his cock stands straight up, at attention. Clint can’t look away, doesn’t even catch Bucky’s smirk. 

“Where do you want him, Natalia?” Bucky’s voice is low, very nearly a growl, and matches the grin on Tasha’s face. 

“Hmm.” She sits up, swings off Clint’s lap to pull him between her and Bucky. “In the middle, I think.” Natasha’s eyes are bright. She nods. “Move please.”

Clint scrambles to his knees, let’s Bucky manhandle him into place. Strong hands pull the open shirt off Clint’s shoulders, reach for the zip of his dress pants, stripping off the last of Clint’s evening wear. His dick is hard, leaking in anticipation. Bucky reaches over and flicks it, watches as it bobs back from impact. “Not yet, Clint. You know the rules.”

Natasha’s wearing nothing but light green panties, takes them off in a movement so graceful, both men pause to watch. “Are you done teasing, Bucky? I’m not in the mood for teasing.”

Leaning around Clint, Bucky catches Tasha up in a kiss. “Anything you want,” he says, as he pulls away. Grabbing Clint’s hair, Bucky pushes him down, let’s Natasha pull his head into place between her legs. He knows what to do, tongue darting out to taste her, the musky scent filling his nose. Clint gets to work, drawing out little noises and sighs and gasps. Natasha’s hands clutch as his hair as her head tips back, resting on the headboard. 

There’s the sound of foil tearing, a strangled groan as Bucky rolls a condom on. Cold, slick fingers make there way between Clint’s cheeks, opening him up so very slowly. He wants to whine, wants to press back into the burn of Bucky’s hand. His hips jerk involuntarily, Bucky’s hand immediately pulling away. A sharp slap pushes Clint forward into Natasha’s mound, her thighs tightening around his head. 

“Ass up,” Bucky orders. Clint moves as much as he can, pushes his ass into the air, feels the heat of the handprint on his bare skin. Bucky’s hand is back, applying more lube and stretching Clint open. The bed shifts, and then Bucky is there, leaning over Clint’s prone body. He positions himself at Clint’s hole, slowly pushing the head of his cock inside it. It’s a slow burn, Bucky opening Clint up, the pressure enough to bring tears to his eyes, and when Bucky stops, the cleft of his ass has Bucky’s balls pressed up against it. 

Bucky is still. Clint knows better than to move. His tongue darts out, licking Natasha, drawing her clit into his mouth, sucking it hard. She cries out, pulls his hair. She’s close, Clint can tell, wishes he was allowed to use to his fingers to bring her off. Instead, he works his tongue inside her, fucking her with tiny movements. 

It seems like ages before Bucky starts moving. It’s slow at first, just a roll of hips, enough to get Clint used to the motion. Clint has just enough time to think he’s being unusually gentle before Bucky starts fucking him in earnest. Hips pull back, snap forward with enough force that Clint doesn’t need to move his mouth anymore, just let’s Bucky’s thrusts push him up into Natasha. Hands grip his hips, hold him in place, pushing him down enough to keep his ass up in the air. Clint is trapped between them, his two people, unable to move. Clint’s never felt safer. 

Bucky and Natasha direct his body with tugs on his hair and slaps to his ass. They use him, fuck his ass and his mouth. Tasha’s hands tighten, pull Clint as close as she can, heels pushes her hips up to grind against his mouth, and she’s coming in a wordless cry. Clint doesn’t stop, let’s her ride out her orgasm, waits for her to push him away, waits for Bucky to move him.

Natasha falls back against the bed, legs relaxing on either side. Bucky gathers Clint’s arms, pulls them behind his back, pulls him up, bending Clint’s back towards him. It changes the angle of the cock inside. It’s fills him, stretches him wide open. Bucky’s hips slam forward, hitting Clint’s prostate every time, slowly dragging across it. Clint sees stars, his cock achingly hard. 

Bucky’s close, fucks Clint fast and hard, tilts Clint’s head back to mouth at his neck. Bucky bits down, pulls a bruise from the skin over Clint’s vien. He comes with a loud a groan, hips stuttering out, cock buried deep inside Clint’s ass. There’s nothing but a thin layer of latex between them, nothing to stop the feeling of Bucky’s dick pulsing inside Clint, heat spreading over Clint’s body. 

He’s begging to come. 

Withdrawing slowly, Bucky let’s Clint go, pushes him onto his back and rolls a condom over Clint’s cock. Natasha swings a leg over, rides Clint with little ceremony. Clint’s hands have the blanket in a death grip, eyes closed tightly as he tries not to come. He hasn’t been given permission yet. Above him, Tasha rolls her hips, small hands on Clint’s chest to keep her balance. Suddenly, Bucky is next to him on the bed, a voice in his ear finally allowed him release, giving him the freedom to touch. 

Clint’s hands shoot up to grasp Natasha’s hips, guiding her movement, and Clint doesn’t hold back, just explodes in pleasure, coming with a shout, Bucky and Tasha’s name spilling from his lips. Natasha’s own climax follows quickly, sweet relief a second time that night. Clint’s spent, boneless on the bed, let’s Natasha dispose of the condom, feels Bucky wipe him down with a wet towel. 

They breathe for a bit, pass around bottles of water and wait for their hearts to stop racing before Bucky turns off the lights, turns down the bed, and they all climb in together, a tangle of sweaty limbs. Natasha finds their hands, draws them together, and they fall asleep with moonlight glinting off platinum and diamonds.


End file.
